A Girl Called Trouble
by AlessNox
Summary: Irene Adler asks a favor of Sherlock and he agrees to guard something for her, but this precious thing seems much too much to handle.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes turned at the click, click, click of high heels on the polished concrete floor, and watched her approach. It had still been dark when he had received her cryptic text and rushed out of the flat without even leaving a note for John. He glanced down at the phone in his gloved hand considering sending one now, before placing it in the pocket of his long black coat.

The Woman was dressed in a knee length wrap of deep indigo-blue. Her walk was distinctive. Sherlock could have recognized it anywhere despite the fact that she was simply placing one foot in front of the other. The black stiletto-heel of one fur lined boot lining up exactly with the previous step. Her short blond hair peeked out from under an ebony-colored fur hat. One hand held her wrap closed and the other swung smoothly around the slight curve of her hip. The blue-grey light spilling through the open windows of the abandoned warehouse mirrored the color of her eyes as she stared across at Sherlock, her gaze zeroing in on his like an arrow hitting its mark.

"Sherlock," she said spreading her legs slightly as she stopped just outside of his arm's reach. "Thank you for coming."

"Irene," he said nodding. "I assumed from your note that this was urgent. It must be serious for you to return to London."

Irene clasped the wrap a bit tighter, "Someone's after me," she said.

"That's hardly new. Why do they want you this time?"

"You know why," she said with a bat of her bleached eyelashes. " I misbehave."

Sherlock stood up straighter, looking down at her red, red lips, the edges of which were curved upward in a tight calculated smile. He was beginning to fill with that uncertain excitement that he always felt around Irene, the feeling of being in the presence of someone whose intellect mirrored his own. He had to fight to keep a smile off of his face. He mustn't show emotion to Irene. The game must be played. "Do you want me to find out who's after you?"

She gave a short laugh, "No, I know exactly the man who is after me. He is not subtle in his threats."

"Then why contact me?"

"I have something I need protected, guarded."

"The last time that you gave me something to guard, my landlady was hurt and my life was threatened. I don't much like guarding your things."

"This is different," she said.

"Sorry, not interested."

"Do you want me to beg?"

"I'm not getting involved in your plots. Good day Irene," Sherlock said as he walked toward the exit.

Irene swung around. "Sherlock!...Please!" she called after him, the edge of her mask slipping.

Sherlock stopped. He turned toward her.

"Please...I'll owe you one," she said.

"You already owe me one," Sherlock stated.

"But you are the only ones I can trust."

"The only '_ones'_? What do you mean by that?"

"You and John. You're the only ones that I can trust to guard the thing most precious to me."

"Your phone?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock, you know that was just business. You, of all people, should understand."

"Understand what?"

"My secret. That even I have things that I care for."

Sherlock noticed the tear in the edge of her eye, and the nervous movements of her perfectly manicured nails. He put out his hand. "Alright, hand it over."

"I don't have it with me now. I'm sending it too you. It's already on it's way."

"How will I contact you to give it back?"

"I'll contact you when the coast is clear, and Sherlock... Thank you," she said before striding smartly away, her hips swaying from side to side as she walked out of the building without another word, jumping into a white sedan and speeding off.

Sherlock pulled out his phone and sent a message.

.

John Watson had just put on the kettle and was beginning to wonder where Sherlock had got to, when he heard his phone beep. He walked into the living room to the desk and read the message from Sherlock.

**[Package coming your way. If arrives before I return, please put somewhere safe. Might be dangerous - SH]**

John replied. **[Package? What is it? Who from?]**

**[Remember the Vatican cameos? - SH]**

Just then, there was a ring on the bell. John texted, **[Someone at door, must be package. Getting my gun?]**

**[Good Idea - SH]**

John tied his bathrobe tightly around his waist and then pulled open the desk drawer removing the Browning. He checked to see that it was loaded before slipping it into his pocket.

The person on the bell buzzed again and again impatiently as John resolutely walked down the stairs. He opened the door to reveal a girl of about fifteen in a white school blazer and a short green plaid skirt above knee-length, striped socks and black and white saddle shoes. She was leaning against the door frame. She ran her fingers through her long black curls and blew a bubble, sucking the pink gum back into her mouth and chewing it as she looked him over from head to toe.

"Good Morning," John said. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I think you can," she said giving John a wicked grin.

John leaned sideways to look behind the girl, but she wasn't carrying anything, not even a purse to hold a phone in, so he asked, "Do you happen to have something for me?"

The girl nodded and put a hand on John's chest pushing him back into the flat as she kicked the door closed with her foot. She reached up and took the gum out of her mouth leaping forward and wrapping her arms around John before giving him a deep kiss on the mouth.

John staggered back stunned for a minute before grabbing the girl's arms and pulling them down. She tried to press her body up against him, but John held her wrists firmly. "Whoa! whoa there," he said. "You're acting a bit too friendly to someone that you just met. I could easily be your father. Who are you anyway?"

The girl pulled out of his grasp and put the gum back into her mouth winking at him as she blew another bubble. Then she said, "Hi handsome. My name is Amanda. Amanda Adler."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock checked his phone on the cab ride back to the flat to find a series of ever more urgent messages.

**[Package arrived]**

**[Package is a girl]**

**[Bring rope. I think we may need to tie her down]**

**[on second thought, bring gag as well]**

John's posts had seemed insistent, so he was surprised to find, as he opened the door to the flat, the completely ordinary sound of the television playing. He glanced around the entry for signs of a struggle and then walked cautiously up the stairs. He entered the flat by the kitchen. John was there in his pajamas and robe, gun still in the pocket, shooting a worried glance over at him as he sipped what was clearly his second cup of tea.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked. John simply tilted his head toward the living room.

Sherlock walked slowly into the room to see a girl in a green and white school uniform slouching in front of the telly. The dark-haired young woman sat back on the couch, arms crossed, toes pointing in, with a petulant frown on her face.

"Doesn't look that dangerous."

"Don't let looks deceive you," John said. "I just got her off of me five minutes ago. I was considering pulling my gun?"

"Got her off of you? Did she strike you? She doesn't look like much of a fighter."

"No Sherlock, I didn't mean like that. Anyway, I advise that you approach her with caution."

Sherlock leaned over and peered through the door again. The girl's eyes darted toward the kitchen, and when she saw him, her entire demeanor changed. She sat up straighter, her lips parted slightly, and her eyes lit up with a kind of intelligent excitement. She rose to her feet. "Are you...are you Sherlock Holmes?" she asked.

Sherlock nodded once and then he looked her over. _The eyes, the face, she was certainly related to Irene Adler, a close relative, sister perhaps. Private girl's school, obviously. Not one in London. Expensive tuition. Irene could afford it. Wrinkles on clothes. She slept in the car on the way here. So the school is several hours drive away. But the curls in her hair are still intact, so she fixed her hair before she arrived. She also put on lipgloss and eyeliner. They are there in her left blazer pocket. Likes to impress people with her appearance. Skirt much too short. Not normal school uniform length. So it is men that she hopes to impress._

"Hello, my name is Amanda Adler," she said holding out her hand. He took it in his gloved one and shook it. She smiled at him, and then walked back to the couch to continue watching her show.

Sherlock turned about and walked back into the kitchen. "She seems ...nice," he said.

"That's not how she greeted me," John said. "She hadn't been here a minute before she had her tongue in my mouth."

"She kissed you?" Sherlock asked surprised.

"Yeah if you can call it that. Mauling might be a more accurate description."

"I thought that you liked kissing girls, John."

"No Sherlock. I like kissing _women_." John looked at her through the open doorway. "Who is she, and why is she here?"

"Have you asked her?"

"No it didn't come up with all the ...snogging. When I told her that if she didn't behave herself I'd tie her down, she said '_yes please_'. She's entirely too young to be...can you call it 'flirting' when a teenager shoves her hands down your pants? "

Sherlock smiled, "Well, she is an Adler. Irene Adler never did know how to behave."

"So, why is she here?" John asked.

"She needs protection."

John rolled his eyes. "And you agreed? Sherlock, when you told me that Irene Adler was still alive, you said that she had no plans to come back to England, and that we probably would never see her again. I had hoped that if you met her again then you would consult with me before agreeing to anything. Christ, Sherlock! last time they put a gun to my head."

"I remember," Sherlock said glancing over at John.

"Then why did you agree to help her, again?" John asked staring into Sherlock's eyes for a long moment. Sherlock turned away first, then John sighed. "I guess I should have expected it. You never could resist wanting to impress that woman."

"John."

"Never mind, just sit down. I'll make you some tea."

Sherlock sat down at the table turning his chair to look at Amanda Adler. The girl was sitting forward now watching the telly, but every so often her eyes would stray toward him only to turn away when she noticed him watching. She reached up and began winding her hair around her finger.

"Biscuit?" John asked. Sherlock looked up to see a smirk on John's face as he watched him watching her. Then the kettle boiled. John opened the cabinet to get the tea.

Sherlock rose to his feet and walked over to the door. "Amanda," he called. "Would you care to join the two of us for tea?"

Amanda's blue-grey eyes turned to him and she smiled. "Thank you, I'd love to."

John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock before pulling out another mug. The girl sat down at the table. She smiled up at John as he served her. He tilted his head and gave her a stern look.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned toward Sherlock saying, "Is it true that you're the only man that Irene couldn't get into bed?"

"I...uh..." Sherlock stuttered.

John sat down. "Is that what she told you?" John asked, "That Sherlock Holmes is the '_One man who she hasn't slept with?'_ Not that anyone is interested, but she never slept with me either."

"Oh, she could have had you if she wanted to," Amanda said.

"Really," John replied. "So is this what you two talk about? Do you and Irene often chat about who she's had?"

"Not often, " Amanda said. "She's usually too busy to visit me. I asked, when she told me that she was sending me here."

"Yes, about that..." John began, but Sherlock cut him off.

"Why did Irene send you here?" he said.

"She said that someone might try to kill me, and that you would protect me."

"And has this happened before? " Sherlock asked. "Your having to hide because someone was trying to kill you?"

"No, never. No one has ever found me before," Amanda said. "You see my name isn't really Adler. I'm Amanda McGraw. I just thought that it'd save time if I called myself that. I wanted you to know who's sent me."

"So then who is Irene Adler to you, your sister?" Sherlock asked.

Amanda laughed. "Does she look that young to you? Irene's not my sister, she's my mother."


End file.
